


Smoking Out

by fabrega



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, M/M, Overwatch Retribution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 07:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/pseuds/fabrega
Summary: Gabe's having trouble keeping it together these days--figuratively, and a little bit literally.





	Smoking Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smarshtastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/gifts).



> Here I am, arriving to the Retribution party two months late with Starbucks. Thanks, sincerely and as always, to smarshtastic for her support, friendship, and excellent beta work. ♥

Gabe is having trouble keeping it together.

This is figurative, of course--by its very nature, Blackwatch has always been a little tough to handle. You build a secret black ops organization that plays by its own rules, you end up with a lot of secrets and a lot of broken rules. It takes a firm hand, a quick wit, and a strong stomach to keep Blackwatch in line, and Gabe has, to the best of his ability, provided all these things for years. 

But Blackwatch has grown bigger and more complicated than Gabe had ever intended, and the threats they're dealing with are likewise bigger and more complicated, and there's only so much one man can do. He's done his best to share the load, to train up good agents he trusts, to put people in place who could take over for him if the worst should happen. He and Jesse share a brain as well as a bed these days, finishing each other's sentences, watching each other's backs. They work together so closely and so well that Jesse's almost better at Gabe's job than Gabe is.

Still, there are some things that Gabe feels like he has to handle himself--things he can't bring himself to put on anybody else, especially not Jesse--and dealing with them on top of everything else is really taking a toll. He hasn't been sleeping well. He's missed easy shots, made one or two bad calls in the field. He sees the looks of concern that Jesse exchanges with the other agents when they think he isn't looking. He's having trouble keeping it together, and he knows it.

He's also having trouble keeping it together _literally_. The side-effects from his SEP treatment, which had once been so easy to keep under control, have become more and more erratic these days. The ability to turn to smoke had previously been a battle tactic, a means of escape, a neat party trick; now it's something he has to actively fight in his day-to-day life. He spends probably half of his incredibly small amount of free time in Moira's lab, undergoing tests and therapy in the hopes of finding--if not a cure, then at least a short-term solution.

And whatever Moira's doing, it seems to be working well enough. Gabe almost never goes incorporeal when he's not being touched, and he stays corporeal when touched the majority of the time, more if he's concentrating. Around the Blackwatch base, he does his best to keep his distance from almost everybody, delegates the shit out of agent training and briefings and paperwork, stays professional and aloof and as unapproachable as he can be. When they go out on missions, he wears a long-sleeved hoodie, with a tucked-in waistband and tucked-in gloves, hood up over a hat that's pulled down low across his brow, showing as little skin as possible so that if and when he falls apart (a hint of billowing smoke at the shoulder, the hip, the knee) it's hidden from his enemies and his agents alike.

Even if he can't keep it together, things would fall apart if it didn't look like he could, so he does what he has to do.

Still, he and Jesse share a bed as well as a brain these days, and there's no hiding this from Jesse--no hiding much of anything from Jesse McCree, if Gabe's being completely honest with himself.

.

Jesse is there, the first time Gabe really loses control of it. One moment, he's above Jesse on the bed, his knees bracketing Jesse's hips, leaned down heavily to kiss Jesse's neck; the next moment, he feels himself _dissolve_ , the molecules of him cascading down across Jesse in a heavy black smoke. Gabe concentrates on reconstituting himself, vaguely aware of Jesse gasping and scrambling backwards somewhere amidst all his atoms. When he's solid again, he sits heavily on the end of the bed, putting space between the two of them--more space than he probably needs to, more space than he wants. He needs desperately to feel Jesse's hands on him, but the look on Jesse's face makes it seem like that's unlikely to happen right now.

"What the hell was that?" Jesse asks. His back is up against the wall, his knees drawn up towards his chest like a physical barrier between them.

Gabe feels Jesse's gaze on him, heavy, an almost physical thing. He takes a deep breath, partially to prepare himself for this conversation, partially just relishing the feeling of having lungs again. He'd never lost control of his wraith form like that before, and he feels just as shaken as Jesse sounds. "What do you know about the Soldier Enhancement Program?"

Jesse scowls. "Not a whole lot: you and Morrison were in it, whatever it did to you guys helped end the Crisis, and whenever I ask you about it, you clam up like there's a damn sniper trained on both of us who'll take us out if you say one wrong word." He stops, realization dawning on his face. "Is _this_ what the SEP did to you?"

"Yes and no--not on purpose." Jesse's body language is less tense, so Gabe scoots forward on the bed tentatively. "Everyone in the program reacted differently to the experimental gene therapy. A bunch of the first batch of test subjects died. Some people, like Jack, just got the good stuff. But for a lot of us, we got the good stuff and then there were...side effects. Siobhan's adrenaline regulation completely shut down. Petersen would randomly see two seconds into the future. Aiden's muscles liquefied. The twins, Liyat and Rin, always had one migraine between them. And me?" Gabe smiles ruefully. "I got the ability to turn into smoke."

"So this isn't a new thing."

"No, I've been a monster for a while now." Jesse opens his mouth to protest, but Gabe holds up a hand. "It's okay, I saw the way you looked at me. I understand. I felt the same way at first--still do, sometimes. It's not a new thing. What _is_ new is not being able to control it."

"'I swear this has never happened to me before'?" Jesse teases. 

Gabe can hear the slight shake in his voice, but knows not many other people would be able to. "You're sure taking this in stride."

Jesse moves forward on the bed, reaches out with one finger to poke Gabe. Gabe's surprised and relieved when he doesn't turn to smoke again, and by the look of it, Jesse is too. When Gabe stays solid, Jesse moves even closer. "Makes sense now, why you hired Moira. You know this was coming?"

"Not this exactly, but something like this. I've been feeling tired in my bones like I did in the early days of the Program--like a storm was coming." Gabe leans against Jesse and lets his head rest on Jesse's shoulder.

"You should've told me."

"You know I couldn't."

Jesse huffs a laugh. "Yeah, yeah, I know how this works. But I know about it now, and there's nothing you can do to keep me out of your business until this all gets fixed."

"Wouldn't dream of trying," Gabe says.

True to his word, Jesse is with him every step of his recovery. As they work out what triggers the episodes, Jesse runs interference with the other agents. He becomes the visible point of contact for Blackwatch, handling subordinates and higher-ups alike with surprising aplomb. He helps Gabe suit up for missions, and helps cover for him if and when things get a little shaky. 

He also sits in Moira's lab when Gabe is undergoing his therapy, working through the paperwork and mission planning that Gabe ought to be doing but can't. His presence helps Gabe feel--not _better_ , not exactly, but less like things might go wrong. The uneasiness he feels in Moira's lab lessens as the therapy sessions go on, and Gabe is absolutely willing to attribute that to Jesse being there. 

He's still having trouble keeping it together, but for the first time in a long time, he's cautiously optimistic about it.

.

Then, Talon hits them where it hurts. The new facility in Rome goes up in flames, taking too many good agents with it and nearly taking Gérard as well--hell, if he and Jesse had been walking a little slower, it might have taken them too. 

Gabe gets _angry_ , angrier than he's been in a long time, maybe ever. In the immediate aftermath of the explosion, after he and Jesse exchange a look and realize what's happened but before they both rush back into the burning building to attempt to rescue anybody inside who's left alive, the anger hits him, a bright, sharp _wave_ of it, and he feels himself go to pieces, sees Jesse reach for him and feels as Jesse's fingers slip through where his arm used to be. He hears Jesse say _Gabe_ and forces himself corporeal again. He has to hold it together; there's no time for anything else.

.

Afterwards, when the fires are out and the dust is settled, when the living are rescued and the dead are counted, Gabe and Jesse make their way back to base and to Gabe's quarters. They're filthy, covered in sweat and dirt and blood, and Gabe is _exhausted_ , physically and emotionally--there's a big, numb space in the center of his chest, anger gnawing at its edges. He's not sure how he even has the energy to still be angry right now. 

He stands in the middle of the bedroom, unable to will himself to move, swaying gently on his feet as Jesse strips out of his uniform and moves towards the bathroom. The look Jesse gives him over his shoulder ought to be enticing, but he can tell that neither one of them is really feeling it right now. He waits where he stands, unmoving, as Jesse goes into the bathroom, and he hears the shower turn on. He doesn't look up when he hears the shower turn back off again. Has he really lost that much time? He wouldn't be surprised. 

The touch of Jesse's hand on his arm snaps his gaze up--he doesn't lose form, because it's _Jesse_ , but there's a moment where his jaw clenches and everything feels like it swims ever-so-slightly out of focus. He looks at Jesse, and Jesse looks back at him with concern.

"Gabe? Talk to me," Jesse says. Gabe watches the way Jesse's gaze flickers across his face, wonders what he sees.

"What is there to say?" Gabe feels the anger flare and tries not to let it fill the empty space in his chest. "Those _fuckers_ \--"

"I know," Jesse says. "We've gotta take the fight to them. Hit 'em where they live."

"You know we can't do that. Not the way you want."

Jesse scoffs. "Hasn't ever stopped Blackwatch before." Then his face softens. "Either way, we can't do anything right now. Get clean, get some rest. We'll tackle this head-on in the morning."

Gabe lets himself be guided into the shower. He stands under the water and lets Jesse crowd into his space, pressing mindless kisses to all the parts of him that come into reach. Jesse's hands on him are solid and reassuring, and Gabe squeezes his eyes shut and tries to memorize the feeling somehow--it's the opposite of when he loses control, solid in all the ways his disparate atoms aren't. It's _home_.

.

Blackwatch comes together to mourn. They've always been a tight-knit group, even as the organization grew, and it seems like everyone knows someone who'd been at the Rome facility. There's a memorial service for the people they'd lost in Rome, a somber affair with a lot of unsatisfied mumbling among the agents that Gabe's sure he's not supposed to be hearing. Afterwards, most of the agents disperse, still mumbling, but a few stick around, looking determined to talk to Gabe. Jesse's one of them, and Genji, and half of Gabe's strike team.

"So what's the plan, boss?" Jesse says, giving Gabe a pointed look.

"Don't have one yet." Gabe pushes down the feeling of annoyance the question brings bubbling up. He and Jesse had talked about their plan--or lack thereof--before they'd come to the service, but he knows that all the parts of this conversation need to happen in the open, not just between the two of them.

"But there _will_ be one, right?" Prithi asks. Around her, the others nod. Gabe almost wishes that he'd assembled a less competent team, one that cared less and wouldn't press this so much--almost.

"You cannot let what happened in Rome go unpunished. Otherwise, it will escalate," Genji says. Gabe's a little surprised; he hadn't expected Genji to contribute at all.

Jesse shakes his head. "Antonio will get what's coming to him. Blackwatch'll see to that."

"Officially, Blackwatch _can't_ see to that."

"Right, because we've never gone anywhere we don't official clearance for," Edwards says, and even Gabe has to laugh.

Gabe thinks about the conversation they'd had with Gérard, before the explosion-- _we will drag them out of the shadows and into the light._ Whatever they end up doing, it's not going to be that. "It'll have to be a very small team, a surgical strike. Nobody can know that we were there."

"We're good at that, boss," Jesse says, fixing him with a too-sincere look. "Blackwatch has stayed under the radar for, what, fifteen, twenty years now? It's what we do."

Gabe wants to respond _this isn't what we do_ , because it's not, not really. This is different. This may still be the right thing to do, but this is also revenge. He wants it as badly as they do, but--

Jesse's still looking at him, and Gabe refuses to meet his eyes.

.

"I lost control of it, in Rome, after the explosion," Gabe tells Moira during their next session.

Moira makes a thoughtful noise but says nothing.

"Seems like those were extenuating circumstances," Jesse says. He's sitting where Gabe can only see him out of the corner of his eye, going over the intel they've got on Antonio's compound in Venice. "You pulled yourself together real well afterwards too."

"Would've been better if-- _ow_!" Gabe hisses as Moira jabs him with a very large needle. "Would've been better if I hadn't needed to."

"Ain't that the truth," Jesse mutters, and Gabe feels like he ought to address that but Moira cuts in before he gets a chance to.

"There is another treatment we could try," she says, still sounding thoughtful. "It's possible it would be more effective."

In Gabe's peripheral vision, Jesse's eyes narrow.

Gabe knows he ought to ask _what exactly is it_ and _why now_ and _why not before_ \--those are the questions Jesse is no doubt thinking right now. But the inevitable mission in Venice is too important for him to risk going to pieces, and it wouldn't be the first time he's probably put the mission before his own well-being, and so he glances at Jesse and then looks up at Moira and nods. "We'll try it."

Jesse snorts but keeps his mouth shut even when Moira gives him an icy glare.

Things are tense in Gabe's quarters that night. Gabe crawls into bed, tired from a day of treatment and planning, but Jesse sits on the edge of the bed instead of crawling in too, opens his mouth to speak and closes it again without doing so a couple of times. He does this enough times that Gabe finally snaps at him: "Whatever it is, just say it."

Jesse opens and closes his mouth one more time before finally speaking. "You know what I'm going to say. Don't like Moira. Don't trust her. Never have."

"And the minute you can give me a viable alternative to her treatment, I'll take it. Until then?" Gabe sighs. "We do the best with what we've got. _That's_ what Blackwatch does."

Jesse sags, and he leans backwards into Gabe. "I wish you weren't right."

"It's my curse," Gabe says, making sure the grin finds its way into his voice. 

Jesse turns now, rolling his eyes, but he smiles too. "Just...take care of yourself, okay? Not much use saving the world if you're not going to be in it to enjoy it with me."

"The world might have a thing or two to say about that," Gabe says, but Jesse kisses him, hard, and Gabe finds that it's suddenly tough to care about anything else.

.

The mission to Venice comes together. Gabe is going, and Jesse, and Genji: tactics, and brawn, and stealth. After some argument--Jesse thinks Valdez would be a sufficient medic, while Gabe can't shake the feeling that if things go sideways, they're going to need more healing than even their best Blackwatch field medic can give them--Jesse begrudgingly admits that Moira should round out the team. Any more than that, the risks outweigh the benefits.

He talks to the Strike Commander, giving him the kind of "heads up but with plausible deniability" that's defined his and Jack's working relationship for more than a decade. Nothing Jack could say now would dissuade him from going, but the formalities need to be observed regardless.

The intel they have on Antonio's compound is good, but there are still a few holes in it, so Gabe pulls some strings and sends Jesse in undercover with the company that's catering a three-day event on the property. Jesse's undercover work has always been some of the best in Blackwatch, and so Gabe is not surprised when he arrives back a full day early with all the intel they need. (He attends two sessions with Moira while Jesse's gone, the first he's gone to alone in a long time. He's not sure if it's the new treatment or Jesse's absence that makes him feel so uneasy.)

"I don't want to talk about it," Jesse says, darkly, upon his return. He tosses the report on the table they're using for planning and drops heavily into one of the adjacent chairs, pulling his hat down low over his eyes and tucking his chin down towards his chest in a sulk.

Gabe gives him a long look before picking up the paperwork and flipping through it. All the blind spots they'd had have been thoroughly documented, so Gabe's not sure what the problem is--

"Lady had it coming," Jesse grumbles, seemingly apropos of nothing, and Gabe squints closer at the paperwork until he spots it.

"...you got fired from your cover job?" he asks, looking up at Jesse, who glares at him.

Jesse crosses and then uncrosses his arms again. "Like I said, lady had it coming! Ain't like I intend to make a habit of it."

Gabe flips through the paperwork again, trying to see just how bad a problem this is. "Nobody's dead, right?"

"Nope, just covered in a little bit more soup than she was when she arrived at the banquet." Jesse finally looks up, and he grins, a little bit mean. "If I ever need to show my face in Italian high society again, I might be in trouble, but until then I think we can move forward with our plans."

They move forward with their plans. He and Jesse work out the best way into and out of the compound, what security they're going to be dealing with, what their options are. Gabe requisitions the equipment and the transportation they need, reads in Genji and Moira, and then it's time to go.

This will go well, Gabe tells himself as he settles in on the transport with the rest of the team. It has to go well, because the alternative is unthinkable.

.

He shoots Antonio. He thinks about their plan, about what Antonio is saying, about the anger bubbling in his gut, and he shoots Antonio right in the face. The impact of the shot is enough to throw Antonio backwards out the window and trigger the compound's alarms, but Gabe barely hears them. He stares after Antonio, not quite believing that he actually did it, that it's actually done. He's still staring when Jesse grabs his shoulder and spins him back around. It's the kind of sudden, violent contact that has lately been causing him to fall apart; when he doesn't, he stares down at his shoulder for a second in further disbelief before looking up into Jesse's angry face. 

_Moira's treatments must be working_ , he thinks, almost pleased, before he comes back to himself. His brain kicks into overdrive, thinking through all of the contingency plans they'd come up with, trying to remember the best ways out of here, thinking three steps ahead to the damage control, and through it all, he can't shake the feeling of Jesse's hand on him and the betrayal in Jesse's eyes.

.

Afterwards, after all the debriefs and yelling and official reprimands, Jesse finds him in his quarters. Gabe stands at his arrival, sags with relief at the sight of him in the doorway. He'd half expected Jesse to avoid him until Gabe forced the issue. Jesse steps into the room, lets the door shut behind him, and then just--stops, stock-still, with his arms folded across his chest. They stand like that for too long, Jesse not moving, Gabe unsure if he should close the distance between them, each of them unable to look away.

"Are we gonna talk about this?" Jesse finally says.

Gabe snorts. "Not sure what there is to talk about." 

He means it, too. They asked him, in the approximately ten thousand debriefs he'd underwent, why he'd done it, why he'd shot Antonio, why he'd done the single thing he'd very explicitly known not to do. He hadn't had an answer. He's not trying to be difficult, truly, he just _doesn't know why_ , and so if Jesse wants answers from him, he's going to be disappointed.

"That's what I was afraid of." Jesse laughs mirthlessly. "They asked me why you did it, if I'd known that you were going to, if I was in on this from the start. Not sure they believed me when I said I was just as surprised as they were."

Gabe sighs. "Why are you here, Jesse? I don't know about you, but I've already had enough lectures about this to last me the rest of my life."

"I'm here because I love you, asshole, because I'm so goddamn angry at you right now that I can't see straight but _I love you_ and I cannot be anywhere else!"

Gabe closes the distance between them now, kisses Jesse hard on the mouth. He feels himself go wispy around the edges as they press together, but he clamps down on it and shoves Jesse back against the door and kisses him again, all teeth and desperation.

Jesse snarls but keeps kissing him, shoving them both away from the door and towards the wall until Gabe hits it, hard. Their teeth click together and Jesse bites at him, catching Gabe's lower lip in his teeth and feeling like he nearly draws blood. Gabe whines in the back of his throat and clutches at Jesse, and Jesse does not stop.

It feels almost like sparring, as they pull at each other until they're half-undressed and breathing hard. Jesse's fingers on Gabe's bare skin still feel grounding, but in a different way now, less about the solid earth under his feet and more about the sparks under his skin. He needs this, and it seems like Jesse does too.

"Fuck you," Jesse pants against his mouth. "Fuck you so much, Gabe."

"If that's what you want."

Jesse pulls back and gives him a look that's part annoyance and part want. "That's not what I meant and you know it, but--yeah. Yeah." He shoves a hand down the front of Gabe's already-unbuckled pants and grabs his dick, dragging up and down its length roughly, like he means it. Gabe hisses, although even he's not sure if it's with pain or pleasure.

They end up on the bed, Jesse shoving Gabe down and Gabe letting him. Jesse kneels over him and strokes himself while Gabe fumbles with the lube, half-dizzy with need. He works himself open as Jesse watches and murmurs at him: _I'm gonna wreck your pretty ass; I'm gonna give you what you deserve; fuck you, Gabe, you're mine_.

Almost before Gabe's ready, Jesse thrusts into him, hard and fast. Gabe gasps, and Jesse stills until Gabe nods at him--he hadn't meant for Jesse to _stop_. And so Jesse doesn't stop, pounds into Gabe hard and fast, leaning down over him to mouth sloppy, nipping kisses along his collarbone.

Gabe moans as Jesse fucks him, each slap of skin on skin matching to a burst of pleasure. He's not touching himself, his own dick trapped hot and hard between them, but instead pressing bloodless white lines into Jesse's torso as he simply holds on, all he can do. He knows Jesse's getting close, the words he's mumbling against Gabe's skin less coherent, the rhythm more erratic, and then suddenly he's there, saying Gabe's name like a prayer or maybe a curse.

Jesse collapses on top of him, sticky and spent, and Gabe can't complain. It's the most normal he's felt in--well, in a long time.

"'m still mad at you," Jesse says quietly into his shoulder.

"You're going to be for a while," Gabe says, and even as he says it, he's not sure if it's a simple statement of fact or a kind of pre-apology. He's hoping it's the former. He's worried that it's not.

Jesse pushes himself up onto his elbows so he can meet Gabe's eyes. "We'll get through this, right?"

Gabe says _yes_ , and hopes they both believe it.


End file.
